Perfection
by craziunderurbed999
Summary: What would life be like if D'Ablo never died, and Tomas never revealed his secret to Vlad? TomasxD'Ablo, VikasxTristian, VladxHenry. Rated M for a reason.


Only once before had Vladimir Tod felt such a sadness.

Not everybody in the world could say they ever felt as he did. But he had felt this sorrow two times before. And he left as if it were two times too many.

Vlad was a child.

The smell of smoke invaded his scent, the look of it clouded his vision. But even with his burning eyes, he could still see. He saw the room that was once so beautiful to him, once so familiar, burned beyond all belief. The comforting smell of perfume vanished and was replaced by Vlad's worst nightmare.

His parents' bodies. Burned in to oblivion. And for years afterward, he remembered how the childlike act of charity and kindness, turning off his parents' alarm clock, how it killed.

Until one day all these years later, he came back.

Vladimir's dad. He just showed up that one day Vlad needed him most, the day when he was to be sentenced to death in a short period. After regaining his son's and brother's trust, Tomas was absolutely a miraculous event in the Chronicles of Vladimir Tod and Vlad had eons to spend with his father. And uncle. And friends. His trial had been dismissed - D'Ablo, the evil vampire whom was to testify against Vlad and his crimes against vampirekind, suddenly dissapeared off of the face of the earth. And Vlad hadn't heard from him in over ten years.

But now was not a time for Vlad to count his blessings.

Now was a time to mourn.

Snow was dead. Vlad watched her die. He watched his fiancee as she was flattened by a truck while going to go get supplies from the store. Apparently, a large truck was enough to kill a beautiful vampire. Vlad had been watching from out the window of their little cottage as he did the dishes. Then he ran out of the cottage at vampiric speed, dashing for his life. In that very moment, he didn't care if the driver of the truck suddenly wondered how he got there. He just got down on to his knees in front of Snow's corpse and tears started dribbling down his face.

And in that very moment the driver hit the brake and it squeaked, that very moment blood flowed out of Snow's body like there was now tommorow, the optimist inside of Vlad shut up. And Vlad knew that was it. His love was dead.

The snow fell. It did nothing but fall as it came back in one, gigantic, splintering memory. The worst thing about the memory was to Vlad it wasn't a memory at all. It was his present life.

So Vlad was left alone to think. He knew that in the parking lot Joss, Henry, Nelly, Meredith, October, Otis, Dad and even Vikas were waiting for him. They respected his need for silence.

Snow's gravestone wasn't the only one. There were hundreds of all these little stones. He thought of how Snow was supposed to be honored in the vampire way, and how she couldn't get what she deserved due to her foster family being mortal. Vikas was right that one day in Siberia - there was no honor in this. Someday, Joss and Henry would be like this. They would be dead and buried, and their loved ones would stare at a piece of metal pretending it was them, talking to them. And it outraged Vlad. Joss, Henry, Meredith, Nelly, October, Meredith, Snow...they all deserved better than that. It was never enough for any of them. Never would be.

Vlad was numb.

'Vlad?'

The voice was deep, kind, memorized. A hand colored olive was placed reassuringly on Vlad's shoulder. Vlad registers this voice and this hand much larger than his own to belong to only one person.

Henry.

Vlad turns to see the face of his best friend staring directly back at him.

'Buddy,' says Henry full of concern. 'I'll drive you home.'

At any other time, Vlad would be touched by Henry's love and care for him. But this wasn't just any other time. And with that, appreciation, just like happiness, was washed away and forgotten.

Emotionless, Vlad turned his back on Henry. 'I'll just walk home later.'

'You sure?' Henry's voice sounds even more worried than it had beforehand.

A reply comes. 'Yes.' Vlad's voice is hoarse.

Snow continues to fall throughout the little town of Bathory. Outside this place where hundreds are laid to rest, the snow is yellow. Filthy. Ugly. But inside the snow glitters. Vlad listens to Henry's footsteps as they go farther and farther away from him.

And he listened as a new pair of feet come toward him.

He knows the footsteps belong to that of a vampire before he even turns around. He can detect it. And when he turns around, he lookes in to eyes that show everything with just one look. Experience, intelligence, emotion and genius. All rolled in to one being.

'Mahlyenki Dyavol,' a heavy Russian accent announces, 'I'd like to speak with you. It's been a long time.'

Vlad just stares at the Russian stupidly.

'I'm sorry.'

All Vlad could say was, 'Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything.'

Vikas exhales, his breath being seen. He looks as if there are all sorts of complications going through his mind. Then again, there probably was.

'I wanted to tell you that you're not the only one...to feel this emptiness. An emptiness that can only be felt when you lose somebody.' The accented voice is so sorrowful, the eyes so much the same.

Vlad remained silent. He might as well have said, 'Go on.'

'I've gone through the same things you're going through twice now. The first time I lost Nyala because of Otis.'

Vikas stayed quiet for a really long time. He looked deep in thought. Just when Vlad thought he wasn't going to say anymore, he did.

'And the second person...was taken away from me in the worst was possible.'

And the old vampire left Vlad alone to comprehend.

**Hope you enjoyed that! It will get better, I promise. Please read, favorite and review! Oh, and by the way I know Vlad passed his Pravus powers on to Snow, so she can't die, but let's just pretend that never happened. Okay, thank you!**


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